Tangled Honey
by Bea Ryan
Summary: Charlie and Nora share a quiet moment. Femslash.


"I'm not the only one who thinks this is hot, right?" Charlie asked, leaning over to whisper the question to Jason.

"That is insanely hot," Jason confirmed.

Nora and Miles were demonstrating close quarters sword fighting for the assembled rebel trainees. Until they'd seen him limited to the ten foot by ten foot square of the mat none of them had realized that Miles's two sword technique relied on open space and the power he could put into a big swing.

"Wall!" the trainer called again, signaling that Miles had once again struck the imaginary wall and lost one of his swords. Using the limits of the space, Nora had driven him to disarm himself four times in ten minutes. Charlie couldn't contain her grin. They'd practiced last night, but she hadn't dared hope her girlfriend would do this well against the former general.

Miles locked eyes with her, his anger piercing through her joy. "You. Up here," he demanded, pointing his sword at her. "If you think you can do better, then come take my place."

Nora grabbed Miles by the shoulder and whispered something in his ear. He stared at her briefly as his mouth fell open but quickly recovered. Nora was the one who sat down while Miles remained on the mat.

"So it's you and me?" Charlie asked. Miles wouldn't often spar with her and she bounced on her toes, eager to show him how much she'd learned since the last time he had.

"Should be quick," he answered.

The fight was brief and painful. Charlie had a large welt across her back from a hard hit Miles delivered with his practice sword and her skull ached from where he'd held her by the hair as he lectured her in front of the group. "For the last damn time, pin up or cut off your hair."

* * *

Nora leaned on the door jamb of Charlie's room. "I brought some ointment for that bruise. If we treat it early, it'll heal faster."

Charlie lay on her stomach on her bed and tipped up her head with a small smile. "Care to rub it on me?"

"I can do that," Nora said. She sat down on the bed and lifted Charlie's shirt, exposing the injured skin. Gently she applied the thick, heavily scented cream to the swollen flesh.

"He's only a jerk about your hair because he cares," Nora said.

"I know," Charlie answered. "I just don't like my hair up."

"Do you like my hair up?" Nora asked.

"I like you however I can get you," Charlie answered as she sat up to lean against her girlfriend.

"So why do you let your hair fly all over the place when you know you'll be in combat? It's a miracle someone hasn't pulled out a clump."

Charlie stiffened.

"Tell me," Nora said.

"I used to wear it in braids," she said quietly. "One day I had it in one long, tight side braid. Someone tried to use it as a leash. To force me to do things. He tried to choke me with my own hair. I cut it off and got away. It took forever to grow back. Since then I don't like it short and I'd rather risk having a small spot ripped out than having my whole head used against me."

Nora cradled Charlie as she curled into a ball and let a few silent tears escape her eyes. Nora stroked the long, silky strands draped around them until her eyes dried.

"When I see your hair blowing around in a fight, I don't think about anyone getting a grip on you. I think about them pulling just enough to distract you and kill you. This is a different kind of fighting than what you knew out in farm country. Most of the time anyway."

"You think I should wear it up like you."

"I think you should wear it up in a way that's right for you. I can help you find something you'll like," she said, twisting the honey colored ribbons around her fingers into curls.

Conflicting emotions fought for dominance on Charlie's face. Finally she said, "I really don't want braids hanging down my back."

"Not that," Nora promised with a kiss. "We'll try a few things. How about a golden crown for my warrior goddess?" she asked. Carefully she fingercombed the long locks, gently working through the few snarls and running her nails along Charlie's hairline.

"I love it when you play with my hair," Charlie said.

Nora twisted the gathered strands into a high bun and kissed Charlie's now exposed neck. "So we can try putting it up?" she asked.

"If you keep doing that, you can do anything you like."


End file.
